


Today's Lesson

by Wordsyoucantaste



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin is slightly a bad influence, Fluff, Fun, Gen, Mace and Caleb play hooky, Mace spoils his grandpadawan, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), he's just tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25253803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordsyoucantaste/pseuds/Wordsyoucantaste
Summary: In which Mace and Caleb find themselves working with Anakin to catch a thief.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63
Collections: 2020 Star Wars Summer Fic Exchange





	Today's Lesson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loveandrockmusic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandrockmusic/gifts).



> Wrote this for the Summer Fic Exchange for Larm! Just a fun fluffy little piece!

This was definitely not behavior conducive to a member of the Jedi Council. Least of all, a leading member like Mace Windu. In fact, it was perhaps the most un-Jedi like behavior Mace had indulged in in quite some time. And he was sure that he’d likely catch some heat for this. But like Caleb Dume, who swung his feet back and forth from where he sat across from Mace, he wasn’t complaining. Caleb had been working for quite some time to finish a chocolate shake that was far too large for him, not that such a thing was a remarkable feat. Caleb, Mace noted, was rather small. He had an angular little nose with large inquisitive green eyes, framed under a mop of cropped yet still messy dark hair and ears that Mace figured the youngling would eventually grow in to. He was every bit the overly-eager and mildly hyperactive padawan he looked and Mace couldn’t help but inwardly smile at the thought that he and the boy shared that in common. It hadn’t been so long ago that Mace couldn’t remember being desperate to prove himself at such a young age.

Still, what kind of example was he setting, pulling a stunt like this? Depa will definitely have words with him for this. Many, he suspected. It’s unwise to whisk away another Jedi Master’s apprentice from their respective studies. Even more so to do something so mundane, like getting a chocolate shake at Dex’s. It was bad enough to be abandoning his own duties, even worse that he included a youngling in playing hooky. Depa’s youngling, to be exact. 

But how could he not? When the boy had crawled his way through the vents and landed right where Mace had been attempting (and failing) to get any reasonable work done, he couldn’t even summon the energy to be displeased about the intrusion. Curiosity instead took over when he had asked the disheveled padawan just what the meaning of his actions were. And when the boy had piped up by saying he snuck out of the archives and was hoping to have found the room of a thousand fountains instead, “ya know, for some fresh air”, Master Windu had felt for his efforts. 

It wasn’t hard, sneaking out of the temple. Not that Mace was a professional, but the benefit of being on the Jedi Council meant very few people would be willing to stop him for a casual conversation, even with a youngling like Caleb trotting along like he’d just won a golden ticket. 

So here they were, basking in some sunlight, avoiding responsibilities and fighting an endless battle against brain freezes and stomach aches.

“… So he wasn’t always known as The Negotiator?” Caleb piped up, head tilted with intensive curiosity as he waited patiently for Mace to reply.

He shook his head, a smile tugging on his face as he mindlessly stirred his own mess of melted chocolate iced cream. “Absolutely not, young padawan. Master Kenobi was, if I recall correctly, often called Oafy-Wan by his peers.” While Caleb giggled at the idea that the witty and charming Obi-Wan Kenobi could be clumsy and unrefined, Mace realized he’d likely always see Obi-Wan as that gapped tooth and freckle coated kid running through the temple halls with the likes of Muln and Vos. Especially Vos. Kriffing Vos. “That should teach you something though. Shouldn’t it?”

Caleb nodded, a subtle shrug shaking his shoulders. “Yeah yeah, we all start somewhere. Master Depa already taught me that.” Mace quirked an eyebrow up, wordlessly saying are you sure that’s the answer you wanna give me? Caleb backtracked. “I mean. It’s something we’re told a lot. But it’s still sometimes hard to believe. Knowing that even Council members like Master Kenobi could be uncoordinated is… refreshing.”

Ah, there was that honesty that Depa clearly fell for. If Mace was being honest, he admired that trait in the boy as well. And speaking of honesty…

Mace cleared his throat. “Would you like to tell me just why you were crawling through the vents today? You know. While we’re on the subject.” He leaned in a bit. Mace had always prided himself in getting Depa to fess up to whatever shenanigans she would entangle herself in back in the day. He hoped, with any amount of luck, that it’d be no different now with Caleb. 

Caleb sank in his spot, and Mace was sure the boy’s feet still didn’t fully touch the floor. “I got bored while in the archives.” He wasn’t lying. “I had to write an essay on the agricultural patterns of the Lothal system. Do you know how utterly dull that is?” Caleb threw his hands up in the air, huffing in frustration. Sure, maybe he deserved having to write that blasted essay. Its what he gets for creating his own battalion of fellow padawans during a food fight. But it’s not like he started it! Master Billaba said that wasn’t the point, and Caleb wouldn’t be one to argue. ‘What’s Lothal’s crops going to do for us during the war anyway!”

Expecting to be met with criticism, Caleb instead was met with a soft chuckle. Master Windu’s eyes were narrowed, his teeth barred in a smile. And Caleb simply let the confusion roll off him. “What’s so funny?”

“Caleb Dume, you speak as if that assignment is your burden to bear, and yours alone.” Mace sighed, collecting himself. “Master Yoda has been assigning that ruthless punishment to any rowdy youngling who needs a quick cool down for generations now.” Somehow, that didn’t make Caleb feel any better. “At the risk of sounding repetitive, need I remind you that everyone has been where you are?” Mace started. “I can’t think of a single padawan who hasn’t had to write that blasted essay. I honestly think Master Yoda just really enjoys reading them at this point.” The theory alone had Caleb giggling again. 

“Really? Everyone?”

“Mmm…” Mace paused. “Maybe not Master Ti.” 

“Skywalker?”

“Skywalker could write a dissertation on the matter, were it not for the fact that his Master had already done so by the time he was even chosen to be a padawan.” Mace gave bluntly with a brute sort of honesty that was likely the source of Depa’s preference for someone like Caleb. A shared trait. 

“No, I mean…” Caleb stopped, and Mace found himself noticing the boy looking over Mace’s shoulder. “Skywalker. There. At the counter.”

There were a multitude of ways Mace could have approached the young Knight. He was sure he even could have just stayed exactly where he sat, and Anakin might not have even noticed. Instead, Mace got up from where he sat across from Caleb, letting curiosity get the better of him. “Skywalker…”

Caleb always wondered what it was like to be someone as heroic as Anakin Skywalker. Not for the glory of it, stars know it’s not the Jedi way to seek pride and arrogance. But for the reputation of it. What does it feel like to be genuinely liked by so many. To know that you save so many life on the daily? And while Caleb may not have gotten the answer he was hoping to find as he stared at the tall Knight, he learned one thing was for certain. 

Everyone was afraid of Master Windu. Even the Hero With No Fear.

“M-Master Windu!” Anakin had nearly jumped, spinning where he stood, looking directly at Mace who towered calmly, arms folded across his chest. “I was just uh-”

“Getting enough food for two?”

“Well. Yeah. Master Obi Wan was hungry. So I grabbed him a bantha burger.” Mace only raised an eyebrow. Anakin backtracked. “I mean. A salad. Because he. He doesn’t, uh, like greasy-”

“Anakin.” Mace gave simply. It didn’t take an ounce of force sensitivity to know that the boy was lying. Chosen One is a rotten liar too, Mace thought wryly. He expected Kenobi to have taught the walking headache known as Anakin Skywalker the art of deception. But Anakin demanded attention, though why Mace would never understand. It wasn’t ego, though that certainly didn’t help it any. Mostly, he figured, Skywalker just liked being noticed. Especially if it gave him praise and positive reenforcement. And when Skywalker gave a sort of sheepish grin that was far too reminiscent of his younger and decidedly less wilder days, Mace rolled his eyes. Yoda is right, he admitted. Kenobi spoiled him. 

“It’s uh, well. I’m just. Embarrassed.” Skywalker was still lying, feigning humiliation as he tried to justify the massive amounts of food he had was strictly to satisfy his own hunger and no one else's. It’s not as if he was going to openly admit that he was bringing home enough food to feed the 501st for just him and a very hungry Senator Amidala. Where would he even start to justify that?

“Master! Our speeder!” As if a gift from the force, Caleb was standing in the booth, facing the window with fingers and nose pressed against the transparisteel. “That guy is stealing it!”

It dawned on Anakin that he had an important decision to make. He could either use this moment as an excuse to slip away from this conversation that was not going his way. Or he could be the good little Jedi everyone expected him to be and help Master Windu snag the thief of their vehicle. The later would prove to get Mace to drop the subject of Anakin’s poor attempt at convincing the other he was about to binge his weight in fried fritters. At least better than it would if Anakin just ghosted the man. Padme would understand, wouldn’t she? Besides, helping might buy Anakin a little more down time before the Council ships him off again to force knows where in the galaxy. With rations. And slop. 

Anakin was already following both Mace and this little padawan (who’s name escaped him) out of Dex’s, food abandoned, asking a local if he could borrow their speeder without waiting for consent. The woman protested, but Anakin was already pulling it away and telling Mace and the kid to hop in. Padme’s gonna kill me, Anakin mused darkly to himself. She’d been in a sort of mood lately, and while he couldn’t blame her, what with the entire galaxy essentially at war, the slow but affirmative corruption of the very ideals she swore to protect and the constant stress the lie of their shared relationship being discovered and then having to deal with the resulting consequences. It was a lot for one person, even if it was someone like Padme, who could shoulder the burden of the galaxy’s problems and make it look effortless, not a curl out of place or a word misspoken. 

May the force have mercy on him though if he doesn’t show up with those pickle chips. 

“He went that way!” the padawan squeaked as they sped through traffic, following the Rodian who’d been awfully close to making a clean getaway with that speeder. Anakin would have to remember to ask the kid’s name later. “Turn right!”

And Anakin did. And slammed harder on the breaks than he had any right to if he’d been obeying the law and not weaving through traffic at inhuman speeds. He wasn’t sure if he heard Mace curse in the backseat. He was, however, sure that Mace had braced Caleb where he sat by stretching an arm across and in front of the boy, protecting him any potential harm from the sudden stop. Huh, guess Obi-Wan isn’t the only one, Anakin thought. 

“Uh, got a better idea?” Anakin asked, smirking back at both Caleb and Mace who’s eyes were scanning the scene before them. They’d nearly collided into a small sea of speeders, all stalled and growing impatient over the traffic jam. An accident, and they’d been caught stuck in the middle of all it’s mess and irritation. 

“See if they abandoned the vehicle and got off on foot.” Mace instructed, his eyes scanning the crowds below them, flocking to the local bars and eateries nearby. Traffic, both pedestrian and speeder alike, was thick right now. It’d be a miracle if they ever caught the Rodian who-

“Master, there!” The words, Mace noted, sounded too natural coming from the likes of Anakin, who seemed a little more hellbent than normal to catch a common petty thief. Certainly, the boy had more important things to be doing. 

Then again, Mace could say the same for himself. 

Still, the three of them abandoned their “loaned” speeder, taking to running through the vastly populated streets of Coruscant. And Caleb couldn’t have been more excited.

A day off from mindless busy work? A speeder chase? Hunting down a criminal with the likes of Master Windu and Master Skywalker? He’d have loads to tell his friends when he got back to the temple. A fate, Caleb realized, he wasn’t thrilled with. Sure, it was his home. But the excitement of getting out, going after bad guys and making the galaxy that much safer was way better than those ancient texts about Lothal’s crop circulation. 

Running and dodging in between various life forms of all shapes and sizes (and smells, Caleb noted), he followed the two older men, stopping just outside what looked to be a hotel. The neon purple light of the vacancy sign hummed above in it’s over sized glory, illuminating the building’s towering height. “He went in here?”

“If we work quickly we can cut him off.” Anakin said as if it somehow made him the smartest strategist in the room. Caleb wondered if this was how he was commanding his troops just before engaging in battle. It seemed a bit much. But then again, what did Caleb know about galactic war tactics, aside from what he’s studied in the comforts of home. “You two take the west side, I’ll cover the east. Make sure he doesn’t escape.”

Master Windu looked done. And he was. The man was ready to call it a night, to remind everyone there that one petty thief is not worth this much attention. Or energy. But he saw the stern and accepting look on young Caleb’s face, who was clearly accepting orders and ready to prove himself. Who was he to deny this young one this chance to go on an adventure and prove himself. Hopefully the padawan would learn something. If nothing else, Mace mused, he’ll learn what an absolute disaster Skywalker really is. It was a lesson he’d be happy to pass down to the closest thing he’d ever have to a grandson. 

So they split up. And Caleb, with his still short legs and too long robes, only mildly struggled to run up the stairs. “He’s on the top floor!” Anakin called out over their comms, sounding clearly like he was moments away from ending this chase once and for all. 

At least, it would have seemed that way when Mace and Caleb found him. The thief, narrow and green with those large dark eyes, stood cornered against a window. Anakin had his hands up, begging the rodian to not do anything too foolish. “We just want the speeder.” A lie. Though if Mace was being honest, he wasn’t even sure they cared about the speeder anymore. 

The rodian had wised up to Anakin’s poor negotiating tactic, and rather than submit to questioning or simply be caught, he burst through the window, shattering it before jumping. Caleb let his jaw drop in shock. Not because he watched the thief literally jump out of a window to avoid being caught, but because Anakin did the same.

The rodian had merely used a jet pack, taking off into the illuminated sky. And Skywalker had simply hitched a ride. Mace? Unimpressed. He’d seen this stunt before, too many times to find it amusing anymore. The knight was just showing off. Unfortunately, it worked. All Caleb could do, when running to the edge of the broken window to watch as Anakin flew through oncoming traffic, was grin widely and let out an elated “cool!”. Mace just groaned. 

“It’s not that cool.” He muttered, turning Caleb around, knowing that as Skywalker was slowly dragging down the thief and that the make shift jet pack not enough to carry the weight of two. “Come on, lets go find him.”

Anakin began to pull the rodian down, willing that his feet touch solid ground first so he’d have more control over the landing. But as anyone who truly knew Anakin, either by reputation or otherwise, knew that Anakin was never that good when it came to landing. Unless crashing counted as landing. Then Anakin Skywalker was a pro. 

This was the first time he ever crashed a person though. And he reminded himself internally to not find any bragging rights in that. It’d only give Ahsoka and Obi-Wan fuel to tease him about it later. Still, when they finally came down, it resulted in both of them tumbling, Anakin himself being hurled through a small cart of jogan fruit, unhappy with the fact that now? He was sticky. And tired. And would absolutely be reprimanded for not coming home with those pickle chips. 

“Skywalker!” Mace called out, catching up fairly easily to the disheveled and disgruntled young man. It wasn’t difficult, following Anakin’s trajectory and watching him crash spectacularly. Even Caleb had a giggle over the Knight’s struggles while they pushed their way through the crowd and down into a small alley behind a club.

“I’m alright. Nothing bruised but my ego.” He gave, almost defeated. 

“Those jogans would beg to differ.” Caleb muttered, earning a subtle smirk from Master Windu. 

“Don’t even think about it, Jedi!” The rodian,cornered again, now had a blaster fully aimed right at Anakin, and did little to prove his intent of pulling the trigger. His arm was shaky, his hand wavering to keep a steady aim. And Anakin laughed. 

“Sure you are. Come on. Just put the blaste-” Anakin was abruptly cut off by the echoing pew of the small weapon firing. He slowly raised his hands. “Alright, I believe you. Mind if we talk though?”

“I don’t want to talk!” The rodian replied. 

Mace, who’d had enough of this fodder, simply reached out and pulled the weapon away from the rodian with the force. “The speeder you stole…”

“You can’t prove anything!”

Mace sighed loudly. Again. He determined he was too old for this nonsense. And too tired to deal with it at this moment. It was Anakin who spoke up though, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Have it your way then.” The snap hiss of two lightsabers igniting was enough to have the thief running his mouth within seconds. 

Caleb, who’d done enough standing in the background and watching all this unfold in an anticlimactic manner, found himself wishing they’d at least have found the speeder. Something to show for all their efforts besides just a petty crook. Sure, the rodian gave up the location of where he dropped the vehicle. But it was all for nothing. He dropped it so that someone else, someone who paid him a decent amount of credits, could take it and strip it for parts. Chances are that little red speeder was long gone. 

A shame too, if Caleb was being honest. He was hoping to ask if he could drive them back. A sort of icing on the cake. And his disheartened mood didn’t go unnoticed. Long after they’d finally made their way back to the temple, Mace placed a large and warm hand on Caleb’s shoulder. 

“Something the matter, young padawan?”

Caleb shrugged. “I was. I don’t know. Expecting there to be more of a fight?” It wasn’t a very Jedi answer. But it was honest. And Caleb somehow felt secure enough in admitting such a thing to a Jedi Master like Mace. “He just got away with it.”

Mace hummed. “You were expecting something of an epic adventure, weren’t you.” Caleb nodded. “And what did those expectations teach you, young one?”

Caleb sighed, uncrossing his legs from where he sat, now in Mace’s office, the night winding down slowly. “That I shouldn’t go looking for a fight?” Caleb felt like it was the answer that Master Windu wanted to hear. It was. For the most part. 

“And?”

“And…” Caleb paused. “And that being a Jedi isn’t about catching bad guys and saving the day.” He heaved his breath into a loud and exasperated sigh. It was everything he’d been told since day one at the Jedi Temple. It was the foundation of their teachings. Seek peace, not violence. Reciting such a lesson seemed ridiculous to Caleb, who should have known better long before this point in his life. And yet? They were in a full scale war. All Caleb could do was dream of the day he’d get to help his Master save a planet from the destruction of the Separatists. It’s all any padawan his age ever dreamed of. They were brought into this order as peace keepers. But they were being trained like soldiers. It was hard, for a young mind like Caleb’s, to not get caught up in the glory of that honor. Of defending justice and equality through out the galaxy. Of defending the Republic. 

“Oh is that all.” Mace teased. He kneeled so that he could be Caleb’s height, looking at him rather than down on him. “You’ll have your chance, young one, to show the galaxy how much good you can do. For now? Focus on your studies. And listen to your Master.” Mace stood back up. “She’s very wise and knows what’s best for you.”

Caleb scrunched his face. “You’re just saying that because she was your padawan.” Mace’s nonchalant shrug was enough of a response to Caleb’s accusation. Mace perhaps was a bit biased when concerning Depa. It was unreasonable to not hold such a bond close to one’s heart, even if it did push the boundaries of the code in a way that would be highly unacceptable to a Council member.

“You’re going to have to face her, you know. You’ve been gone all day. She’ll likely be worried about where you ran off to.” Mace chided gently. Caleb clicked his tongue, swinging his foot again from the chair where he still sat. 

As if on cue, from the other side of the door, down the hallway, both Jedi Master and padawan could hear the frustrated grumbles of one Depa Billaba. And in unison, they both froze and looked at each other, the subtle shock of having to face the consequences of their actions earlier than expected plain on their respective faces. “Help me?” Caleb squeaked.

“And why would I do that?” Mace folded his arms. 

Caleb began to from a smug little smirk on his still small face. “Because I only snuck out of the archives. You snuck us both out to go get chocolate iced cream.”

Ah, there it was. The realization that sometimes the padawan has a lesson for the master to learn; today’s lesson had resonated back to avoiding confrontation as Mace pondered for a moment. Caleb, who’d been counting the seconds down until Depa Billaba would bust through the door, demanding answers, had waited a moment before noticing the window.

“I… may have a solution….” The boy offered, recalling the events from earlier that evening.

Mace paused. Contemplated. And then offered up a singular finger. “On one condition.” Caleb waited. “Not a word to Skywalker.”

Caleb grinned from ear to ear as he and Mace slid down the steep slope of the Jedi Temple, Depa Billaba leaning out the window above them and shouting a string of curse words.

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to try my hand at something involving Mace while also writing something involving some padawan shenanigans. I figured what better way to do that than to involve Caleb/Kanan! I hope you enjoyed it, i certainly had a lot of fun writing it! <3


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